


Father, Look at the Stars!

by llcflms



Series: 霧嶋 [4]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, cute late night father-son bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25138621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llcflms/pseuds/llcflms
Summary: Arata shares a moment with his son one night shortly after Hikari's death.
Relationships: Kirishima Arata & Kirishima Ayato
Series: 霧嶋 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820917
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Father, Look at the Stars!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter: Arata

The coffee tastes bitter no matter how many sugar cubes he’s placed in it. He takes a few sips before he gets up from his seat and walks over to the sink to wash it all down the drain. Maybe coffee isn’t the right drink for him, especially not then.

Arata crouches by the cabinet and looks through it. They’ve been out for any sort of alcohol— fermented blood, that is— for a while already and Hikari had been way too lazy to head all the way to the 4th ward to get some. Besides, she’d never been much of a drinker. She’d never been able to hold her alcohol— a family thing, she had said in excuse.

Arata sighs and gets up. He doesn’t want to think about her, but he knows that even if he drowns himself in wine, she’s the only thing that’s going to pop up in his mind. If he stays awake, all he sees is her. If he goes to sleep, she’ll invade his dreams. Sometimes, he chooses to imagine that she’s just gone for the day. It’s not the only time she’s left him alone with the kids— sometimes she heads over to her brother’s place and spends the night there. If he tries hard enough, Arata can force himself to pretend that’s the case and that she’s not permanently gone.

_She might just show up anytime. Besides, it’s not like we saw a body…_

He stops himself there. He knows there’s no use in wishful thinking. Even if his heart tries convincing him that she might just show up at the doorway anytime and he can pull her into his arms and never let go, he knows deep down that there’s no way that’ll ever happen. He knows he has to move on and let go of the past— live for the present— but a part of him just longs to leave and be with her.

_No, no._

He can’t cry. He can’t break down. He has to be strong. He has to be there for his kids, who aren’t taking Hikari’s death well either. Still, it’s hard for him. It’s hard for him to put up a strong front when Touka’s crying for her mother every five minutes. He can barely hold himself together when Ayato looks up at him and asks for his mother, still too young to grasp the concept of death. He smiles at them, holds them and promises never to leave— only to die a thousand times inside.

“Ah, fuck!” He’s not normally one to curse, but Arata can’t help the word that spill out along with his anguished cry. He slams a hand on the table and clutches his head with the other. He’s helpless. There’s nothing he can’t do. Hikari was killed because he was too weak to take the Dove on instead. If only he had been stronger, if only he was more capable, he could have asked her to run instead (not that she would, but…).

“Fa-father…?”

It takes a moment for the voice to sink. Arata looks up and turns towards the entrance of the kitchen. He’s greeted with large blue eyes, watery and terrified. His son’s hands tighten around the rabbit plushie he’s holding— the one Hikari had bought for him, Arata recalls— and he shrinks back slightly when Arata looks at him. Arata wonders what kind of expression he must have to terrify Ayato, but he instantly switches to his usual smile.

“What’s wrong? Weren’t you asleep just now?” Arata asks, walking over to him and crouching so that their faces were levelled. He is pretty sure Ayato had fallen asleep. It’s much easier to get him to sleep than Touka, who screams and cries for her mother to put her to bed and give her a goodnight kiss. It’s troublesome, but of course, he doesn’t complain. Arata understands her and truthfully, he wants to scream and cry as well. But he remains silent every night, holding her till her screams fade into sobs and eventually into snores. Arata can’t do anything to fulfil her longing for her mother. All he can do is hold and coax her, which he does anyway. He’ll do anything for Touka and Ayato, even if he’s hurting just like they are.

Ayato shifts his body slightly, burying his face in doll and nodding. “There was a scary man.”

“A scary man?” Arata murmurs.

“A scary white man!”

_O-oh…_

“Did you have a bad dream?”

Ayato doesn’t say anything in reply, but he tears up a little and nods harder. Arata reaches over and scoops Ayato up in his arms, before lifting him up. Ayato’s still so small, he notes— so small and so young. Arata lightly rocks his son in his arms as Ayato clutches his shirt with his tiny hands.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” Arata asks, noticing that Ayato is looking up at him, eyes wide as ever. Ayato looks away immediately and shakes his head.

“I’m hungry,” he says. His voice is soft and timid and Arata muses over how different he is from his sister.

But more importantly, he has to deal with Ayato’s hunger. Hunger is a ghoul’s worst enemy— Arata has known that from his own experiences. 

“Didn’t we eat just recently?” Arata sighs, as he walks over to the refrigerator. “If you eat too much, you’ll get fat.”

He’s kidding, of course. Even if Ayato wants to eat three whole grown-ups, Arata will probably get them for him. Besides, he doesn’t know if ghouls can get fat from eating too much— stronger, maybe.

“Mother says I need to eat more so I can grow big and strong. She says I’m too small and weak.” Ayato’s reply is immediate and Arata laughs a little at it. He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a container, before placing it on the counter.

“She’s been feeding you too much. That’s why you’re so chubby,” Arata jokes, placing Ayato down to sit on the counter as well before pinching his cheek lightly. Ayato giggles and for a moment, it’s refreshing. The house has been filled with tears and cries far too much that even a little laughter is enough to instantly brighten it. Arata ruffles Ayato’s hair slightly, noticing that it’s been getting a little long and they probably should get it cut, before moving to prepare the meal.

“Father,” Ayato whines. His mood has changed apparently. But that’s Ayato— one moment he’s laughing with his sister and the next he’s crying because Touka threw a roach at him.

“Gimme a minute, Ayato. I’ll get this ready for you,” Arata says, taking a plate and placing the frozen meat on it. Eating cold meat is alright for most ghouls, but Arata prefers not taking any risks. Besides, it doesn’t take much work to stick something into the microwave. It’s not like he’s cooking a full meal.

“Father, it’s high,” Ayato whimpers and Arata turns to him. Ayato’s clutching his rabbit tightly again, looking down at the ground with teary eyes and quivering lips.

_Seriously, this boy…_

“Here,” he says, picking Ayato up with one hand and taking the plate with the other. Ayato falls silent and watches as his father places the plate of meat into the refrigerator and lets it heat the meat up. Arata turns the attention back to Ayato, lightly tapping his nose. “You have to be braver, you know, or you’re going to end up like me.”

_A weak, pathetic and hopeless coward._

Ayato tilts his head. “But I want to be like father.”

_No, you don’t._

“Ayato should grow up to be big and strong, just like your mother wants. You have to take care of everybody, you know,” Arata says.

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Ayato moves a thumb to his mouth, lightly nibbling his nail. “But Big Sister said I’m a crybaby and when I grow up I’ll be weak and stupid.”

_Touka, don’t bully your brother._

Arata laughs despite his mental lecture to Touka. She’s harsh (just like her mother) but she isn’t completely wrong either. Ayato does cry too easily. But even then, he has no worries because, despite Touka’s brutal honesty, he knows he can count on her to take care of her younger brother.

Arata reaches over to pinch Ayato’s cheek again, and Ayato lets out a little gargle, tiny fingers wrapping themselves around Arata’s larger ones to pull them off. Ayato keeps his hand clasped on Arata’s fingers, grinning victoriously from having successfully overpowered his father. Arata feels a genuine smile spread on his face just from watching Ayato. He’s so young, radiating innocence and joy from just a simple act. Arata wonders how long it’s been since he’s been able to derive so much happiness from just an inconsequential thing like that. It must be nice, to live without a care of the world.

“I hope you’re always like this,” Arata murmurs. He grasps Ayato’s hand, eliciting a surprised squeal from the boy, and squeezes it lightly. “Ayato, you have to always stay this happy okay?”

“Me?” Ayato asks, tilting his head again.

“Yeah. Because whenever you smile, it makes your sister and me happy,” Arata explains. Ayato faces changes, his brows scrunching up a little. It seems like he’s truly contemplating Arata’s words. After a while, Ayato brightens and smiles so wide his cheeks puff up. Arata feels like pinching them again.

“Okay!” Ayato cries out, just as the microwave beeps.

Arata takes the plate of meat out and walks over to the table. He puts Ayato down to sit on the chair and places the plate in front of him. Ayato stretches his back a little to look at his meal, before leaning back and turning to his father, his arms still around his rabbit.

“What is it?” Arata asks.

Ayato hesitates for a moment. “Erm… Mother will…”

_Oh right._

“Okay then. But first, let’s get him aside or he’s going to get dirty,” Arata says, taking the rabbit from Ayato and placing it to the side. Ayato cries out in protest, reaching out for it. But he forgets his toy the moment Arata picks him up and moves to sit on the chair instead. Arata places Ayato on his lap. He picks up the cutleries and begins tearing the meat as Ayato watches in amazement. He scoops a small piece up and brings it to Ayato’s mouth and Ayato eagerly eats it.

“How is it? Delicious?”

“It’s nice!” Ayato replies, voice muffled. Some of the juice from the meat— blood, that is— dribbles down the side of his mouth and Arata swipes his thumb over it, wiping it off Ayato’s face. For some reason, Ayato giggles from it. Arata doesn’t understand what’s making Ayato so happy and excited, but he doesn’t complain either. Like he said earlier on, it’s relieving to watch his youngest’s small bouts of unexplainable happiness. Unlike Touka, Ayato’s still far too immature to understand anything and his sorrows and happiness are all derives from small things many would take for granted. Arata can’t remember the last time he was so happy from the meal or the last time he was almost brought to tears from being somewhere too high. If he thinks about it, he has bigger worries and sorrows and it’s with a bitter heart he acknowledges that Touka isn’t spared from them.

“Hey, Father?”

“Yeah?”

“When’s Mother coming back?”

Arata pauses for a moment. He has been waiting for the question— it’s impossible for Ayato not to ask that any time they speak— but at the same time, he’s never prepared for it. His mind falls into shambles as he desperately reaches for an answer, forcefully refusing the images that were trying to surface. He chokes back a sob that is on the verge of spilling out, takes a deep breath and looks down to meet Ayato’s eyes. Ayato dark eyes are filled with curiosity, vacant of despair despite the question he had asked. Arata forces himself to smile.

“She’s gone somewhere where she can’t come back from,” Arata says. Just how do you explain death to a kid? He’s tried telling Ayato that his mother is dead before but all he got in return was a pair of confused blue eyes and a “So when will she come back?”

“Can’t we go to her?” Ayato asks.

“Sure, we will one day,” Arata replies. _Hopefully not soon._

“I can’t wait!” he exclaims, grinning till his eyes closed. “I want to tell her lots of things!”

“Like what?”

“I went to the toilet on my own yesterday,” Ayato says, puffing his chest out proudly at his achievement. “So I wanna see her soon and tell her everything.”

_I really don’t want you to see her soon._

“When we’re ready, we will go there. But it might take a long time,” Arata says.

“Is Mother very busy over there?” Ayato asks.

“She must be,” Arata says. He stands up and lifts Ayato up in his arms. “Do you wanna see the stars?”

“Yes!” Ayato exclaims, kicking his feet excitedly. Arata chuckles at his response, silently thanking the Gods above for the successful topic change. Ayato has always liked seeing the stars and sometimes when he had trouble sleeping, Hikari would bring him outside and they’ll stare at the stars until he fell asleep in her arms. Arata doesn’t know what exactly about the sky captivates his son so much. He’s never the one to hold Ayato out. He’s never really the one who takes much care of Ayato since Ayato’s always sticking to Hikari by his own choice.

_Now he doesn’t really have a choice anymore, I suppose._

As Arata starts walking out, Ayato whines and reaches back. Arata remembers the bunny toy on the table and they make a short trip back to retrieve it. Clutching the plushie close to his chest, Ayato giggles as Arata heads towards the main door, dropping by their bedroom to check on Touka in the process. Seeing Touka fast asleep, he leaves the house along with Ayato, who can barely keep his excitement in check.

The moment the stars came within sight, Ayato lets out an excited squeal and reaches a short arm out, fingers parted as if trying to grasp at the star.

“Father! Father, look! Look at the stars!” he cries out, giggling and kicking his feet. Arata can feel them hitting against his body but it doesn’t really hurt him or anything. He simply laughs and looks up at the sky. The night sky isn’t as captivating as Ayato makes it seem to be, but he does admit it looks nice. Arata thinks of dark canvases with splattered white paint, like he’s seen in museums before. The only difference is that the sky seems to sparkle, a lot like their table used to after Touka spilt a whole bottle of glitter on it when she and Ayato were painting with their mother once.

_Ah. It’s like her wings._

He watches the moon and the stars that glow brilliantly against the dark murky sky, silver outlines making them stand out from the rest. Arata wonders if that’s why Ayato’s so captivated by the sky. Maybe somewhere in him, he sees his mother when he looks up at it. Maybe that’s why Hikari had liked looking at it with him— maybe it reminds her of things she had lost as well.

“Beautiful,” Arata sighs, smiling weakly. His chest aches as his heart throbs within. A brief tale he had once read surfaces in his mind.

“Beau… tiful?” Ayato wonders aloud, staring at his father with wide eyes again.

“It’s like pretty, but prettier.” Arata gives him a dumb explanation but Ayato’s face lights up immediately and Arata marvels at just how happy he is.

“Like Big Sister?”

“Yes, like your big sister.”

Ayato giggles, closing his eyes joyfully. “Big Sister is beautiful! Beautiful,” he sings out the new word he has learnt. Ayato’s so chatty, unlike normally. Arata wonders why. Maybe it’s the meal, or maybe it’s the stars. Either way, he doesn’t really have a complaint. Arata laughs along with his son, moving to sit on their veranda as they continue to look up. He cradles Ayato in his arms and Ayato curls up against his chest, still tightly hugging his rabbit plushie.

“Hey, Ayato, I read this story once. It said that when people die, their souls become stars and they watch over us,” Arata says.

“When people die…” Ayato murmurs. “Then, is that where Mother went? To the stars?”

“I guess she did. She must be watching us now.”

“Huh? That’s not fair. I wanna go to the stars as well,” Ayato whines. “I wanna go there and see Mother! Father, let’s go!”

_Not now. Not so soon._

“Of course we will. But it might take a long time. Ayato has to grow up big and strong first.”

_Please._

“Oh,” Ayato says, voice filled with disappointment. “When I’m big and tall… I…” He punctuates his statement with a yawn, chubby hands moving up to his face to rub his eyes. Arata smiles, ruffling his hair, before picking him up and walking back into the house.

“Okay, it’s time for you to go back to bed,” Arata says.

Ayato nods and Arata thanks the Heavens that he’s much more obedient than his sister. If Touka’s been doing something she loves, it’ll take a lot more to get her to bed, even when she’s yawning every five seconds and her eyelids are beginning to droop. Arata stifles a chuckle from the thought. It’s a wonder how his children are so different, but at the same time, it is the two of them who makes the house so much more lively.

Touka and Ayato cannot fill the void the had developed the moment Hikari was gone. But they make it easier for him to sometimes pretend it’s not there. He imagines being in the house alone without them, having to wallow in his despair over Hikari’s death all by himself. He recalls her brother’s words to him and the expression he had made when Arata told him the news. He has no idea where Renji is or what he is up to, but the last he heard, the kid isn’t taking things well. It’s not like Arata’s been taking things well either. He’s locked himself in his house with his kids for now, but when the food does run out and he has to get some more, he wonders if he’ll be able to control himself. Will he honestly be able to look a Dove in the eye without thinking about her and the sacrifice she had to make because of a Dove like them?

Arata sits aside, watching Touka and Ayato as they slept. They might have saved him from drowning completely in despair. They might be holding him up, even if it’s just a little. But he knows he can’t simply leave things to them. They’re kids. They’re his kids. He’s their father.

_I have to protect you._

He won’t let a similar incident happen again.

_I promise you, I’ll make sure you guys can grow big and strong and one day, in the distant future, we’ll go to the stars together._

It’s a pity, however; their world is built on broken promises and crushed dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sad Ayato never talked about or had a flashback of Arata in :re. These losers are my favourite men ever...


End file.
